


Set To Rights

by Bofur1



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Danger, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Idolization, Jealousy, Kid Fic, Loneliness, Non-Graphic Violence, Protective Thorin, Role Models, Running Away, Sad Fíli, Thorin Is an Idiot, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It had to stop! If being a King’s heir meant the King wouldn’t pay any attention to him, Fíli didn’t think that was what he wanted to be anymore.<em></em></em>
</p><p>Fíli is starting to think that Thorin likes Kíli more than him. Kíli's always the one being coddled and loved by their uncle and Fíli doesn't know why. It's becoming more than he can bear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set To Rights

 

Fíli’s head jerked up when he heard his younger brother squeal loudly nearby.

“Faste’, Uncle Tho’in, faste’!”

Smiling broadly, Thorin obediently quickened his pace as he swung his younger nephew around the room. Kíli howled with terrified glee, kicking his small boots in the air. When Thorin tired at last, he fell into the chair by the hearth with Kíli in his lap.

“Eve’ything’s spinning, Uncle,” Kíli giggled, curling his small fingers around a lock of Thorin’s hair as though it could balance his vision.

“It won’t for long,” Thorin panted. “The world will always set itself to rights.”

Though he wasn’t really involved in the conversation, Fíli wasn’t so sure of Thorin’s statement. He had begun to notice his uncle’s habit of doting on his little brother. It wasn’t that he was angry about it...he just wished Thorin would tousle _his_ hair more often, smile at _him_ more often, and play with _him_ more often.

Whenever he would get lonely, Fíli would remind himself that he was Thorin’s heir and that he was being treated like an adult, important and independent. Still, he’d used this same assurance so many times that it made him long all the more for Thorin’s affections.

Fíli returned to the present just in time to see Thorin kiss the top of Kíli’s head and then set him on his feet. “Run along now, supper’s nearly ready,” he said fondly. Kíli beamed and skipped off. Gathering up his playthings, Fíli started to follow his brother when Thorin’s hard voice stopped him.

“What have _you_ been doing, Fíli?”

Fíli turned back in surprise to face his uncle, gulping at the frown he wore. The Dwarfling nodded his head toward the toys in his arms. “Playing,” he whispered, almost afraid to say the word any louder.

“You should be helping your mother prepare the food,” Thorin said sternly. “After you put your things away, go set the table.”

“Yes, sir,” Fíli murmured, slinking off like a beaten dog and blinking back tears.

~)~(~

It had to stop! If being a King’s heir meant the King wouldn’t pay any attention to him, Fíli didn’t think that was what he wanted to be anymore. He approached his mother about it first.

“Ama, what exactly does being a Prince mean?” Fíli asked, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Dís gave him a surprised glance as she stirred the batter she was making for bread. “What does it _mean_? Well...it means that we’re royalty and we’re meant to...be above everyone else.”

Fíli could see the reluctance on her face for telling that honest truth, lest it make him arrogant, so he tried to alleviate her worry. “That wasn’t what I was asking. I’m just wondering if _we’re_ supposed to treat each other differently. When he was alive, was Adad supposed to treat you differently cos you’re a Princess? Are Kíli and I supposed to treat each other differently cos we’re princes?” He paused for a moment, his heart quickening. “And—what about Uncle Thorin? Is he supposed to spend more time with one of us than the other?”

Dís turned, scooping up her eldest and setting him on the counter next to the bowl of batter. Keeping her hands on his shoulders, she spoke.

“Fíli, my _nidoyel_ , you understand that families are supposed to protect and care for each other?” At his hesitant nod, she continued, “The only difference in our family is that protecting our own...it is our calling, our _duty_ to do so three times over. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, of course it does,” Fíli agreed hastily. “But I meant, should one of us _love_ someone else more than a third person?”

Dís’s brows knit. “Why are you asking?”

Fíli shrugged out of her grip and slid down from the counter. “I just wanted to know,” he mumbled as he walked away. He could feel his mother’s eyes on him, but he didn’t turn back.

~)~(~

Fíli stuffed another tunic into his bag, tears streaming silently down his face. Tonight had been the last he was able to bear. Fíli didn’t know where he would go, but at the moment he didn’t care. All he could see was Kíli on Thorin’s shoulder, saying unbearably sweet, affectionate things that he should have said to Fíli a long time ago. _Especially_ that last part.

“Uncle Tho’in,” Kíli had murmured, resting his cheek on top of Thorin’s head, “I wanna be just like you when I’m big.”

Fíli’s eyes and mouth had opened wide in disbelief. Kíli wanted to be just like...Thorin?

Thorin seemed to have noticed Fíli’s shock and took Kíli off his shoulder, scolding gently, “I’m not much of a role model, Kíli. I’m not even around very much—”

“But I’m gonna be King someday!” Kíli exclaimed, all caught up in the excitement of his imagination. “I’m gonna be all da’k and big and sca’y but still really nice, just like you.”

Fíli choked on his food and sent himself into a coughing fit, which seemed to snap Kíli out of it. “Fee!” he cried, reaching across the table. “What’s w’ong, Fee?!”

“Bit off more than he could chew, no doubt,” Dís soothed, rubbing Fíli’s back.

 _You bet I have_ , Fíli thought amidst the haze of coughing and heartbreak.

Now Fíli was doing the only thing he thought he could do. He was going to run away and let Kíli be the Crown Prince. It was fine by him if Thorin coddled Kíli all the way through it; _he_ would be free. He wouldn’t have any responsibilities, ties, or hurts.

Fíli shut his bag of things and slung it over his shoulder. He made sure the knife Thorin had given him last year for his birthday was on his belt. Then, with one last look at his sleeping brother, Fíli left.

~)~(~

Fíli walked until his feet hurt and his eyes hurt from all the tears he’d cried. Stopping for a rest, he sank down against a tree and wondered where he was. He’d passed the forge at least an hour and a half ago, pausing for just a moment to watch Mr. Dwalin bring his hammer down. A work-horse, everyone called him. Then Fíli had moved on.

The Dwarfling shivered a little as a breeze kicked up. He reached for his pack and pulled out a cloak, hugging it around his shoulders for warmth. Running away wasn’t very comfortable, he noticed as the tree bark poked his back and tugged at bits of his hair.

Unexpectedly he heard a deep growl from somewhere close. Fíli startled, his hand going to his knife. Rising onto wobbly legs, Fíli peered into the dark. The moon had hidden behind the clouds, making it hard to see, but when bloodshot red eyes met his wide blue ones, he knew what it was.

Wolves.

Fíli drew his knife, holding it out in front of him with shaking hands. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to swing it, for he felt paralyzed with fear. Surprisingly, this wasn’t the case. As soon as the muscles in the wolves’ legs tensed to spring, Fíli bolted, running down the road as fast as his short legs could manage. The wolves howled as they followed, eager for a hunt.

It almost seemed as though he would lose the wolves, but Fíli tripped over a package in the road that must have fallen out of someone’s arms earlier that day. He turned onto his back, gasping as the wolves approached and surrounded him, barking and snarling menacingly.

Just then someone’s voice, almost unrecognizable with rage, bellowed out in Khuzdûl. “ _Wakarak udu mê inùdoy!_ ”

Fíli watched with mouth agape as Thorin stormed around the bend, his sword already swinging. Dwalin was with him, both axes drawn and ready to slaughter the enemy.

Slaughter them they did. Thorin’s sword was a blur as it sliced through the wolves’ flesh, muscle, and bone, sending spurts of blood onto the dusty path. Dwalin barely needed his axes, as the kicks he sent into the creatures’ ribs and faces were nearly incapacitating.

Afterward, Thorin did something that surprised Fíli. Practically throwing away his sword, the King leapt forward and gathered Fíli up in his arms, resting his chin on top of Fíli’s head.

“Fíli, my nephew! You’re safe now—there’s no need to shake so...”

Fíli hadn’t realized that he _was_ shaking. Now he tried to stop but instead only quaked harder. His breath became pitiful little gulps as he hugged Thorin’s neck, fisting his hands into his dark hair.

“Are you hurt?” Thorin’s tone turned fearful. “Were you bitten, _mê inùdoy_?”

There was the Khuzdûl again. Fíli was still learning the ancient Tongue, but he was almost certain he had heard the word ‘son’ in there. Despite the vulnerable affection that Thorin was showing, Fíli decided he had probably said ‘sister-son’.

“No, I’m alright,” he whispered, burying his face in Thorin’s fur coat. He felt Thorin’s chest rise and fall against his in a deep sigh of relief.

“We’d best get him back to his mother,” Dwalin suggested.

Thorin nodded, the long strands of his black hair tickling Fíli’s skin. “Aye. Thank you for helping me retrieve him.” To Fíli he added soothingly, “It’s alright, young one. The world will always set itself to rights.”

The world might, Fíli thought hazily as he was carried home, but would his relationship with his uncle?

~)~(~

Fíli involuntarily settled deeper into his blankets as Thorin sat down on the couch beside him.

“I’m thankful you’re safe, nephew,” he stated after a moment.

Fíli nodded with a nervous laugh. “It wouldn’t be very fun to be eaten by wolves,” he agreed.

“But, Fíli, I want to know why you were out there in the first place. I grabbed the bag you left by that tree and it seemed like you were...packing for a long journey.” Thorin paused before leaning forward, his voice soft with concern as he concluded, “Why were you running, my boy?”

Fíli stared down at his lap for a long time. “I got impatient. The world didn’t set itself to rights fast enough,” he mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“You love Kíli more than me!” Fíli burst out in anguish. “You always talk to _him_ and smile at _him_ and swing _him_ around the room and laugh and say you love _him_ and then you yell at _me_! And then at dinner he said that he wanted to be just like you! I’m his big brother—he should want to be like me!” Panting, Fíli scrubbed at the tears that streamed down his cheeks, unable to look Thorin in the face.

If he had been able, he would have seen the emotion that swept over his uncle’s features. Swallowing hard, Thorin reached out and then thought better of it. Who was he to touch this boy he had so wounded? Therefore he spoke, his voice tinged with grief.

“Fíli. I am so sorry.”

The young Dwarf looked up in surprise and he saw the emotion then, saw the sorrow and guilt in Thorin’s face.

“If I had known how I’ve made you feel, I would have...I don’t have an excuse.”

“So you _do_ love him more?” Fíli asked heartbrokenly.

“I love you both the same,” Thorin enunciated firmly. “But try to understand. Your brother is still very young, at a place in his life where he must always be held and played with and told that he’s loved, or he’ll think he’s not.” Thorin did touch Fíli now, cupping his small chin in one hand. “I see now that you’re not entirely out of that stage either. I hope you can forgive me for being so blind.”

Fíli nodded, resting his cheek against Thorin’s thumb. “I thought maybe it was because I didn’t look like you,” he said in a small voice. “Because I have blond hair.”

“Oh, Fíli, I love your hair just the way it is. You are unique—and loved for it— _kidhuzurâl_.”

Fíli studied his uncle with intent blue eyes. “So you’ll play with me now?”

Thorin laughed gently. “Yes. I’ll go get your soldiers.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> nidoyel: boy of all boys  
> wakarak udu mê inùdoy: break/get away from my son  
> kidhuzurâl: golden one


End file.
